Magic's Effect
by LuckyWaters
Summary: The Story of Harry Potter: An epic tale of adventure and love and sorrow and loyalty and, above all, Magic. How much can one conflicted girl's entrance into the wizarding world change? What is the effect of one person's magic?
1. Prologue

**Melidi Ridare**

The librarian gave her a customary acknowledging nod as the young orphan strode into the building, her long dark hair flying behind her. She strode with purpose to the reference section, searching for a book she knew well- had nearly memorized by now, at the age of twelve.

She came to the centerfold, where there was a detailed map of the streets that ran around her now, complete with sketches of the buildings' outlines. Her small fingers, slightly dirtied by the dust and dirt in the air and on the surfaces outside, traced the roads until she found Charring Cross. She remembered standing at the exact point her fingers remained at, a fraction of an hour before. It didn't make sense. There was no room for the hidden world inside that restaurant, and she had known something was different from the moment she stopped on the pebbled street- tourists and Londoners flying by her.

She had been wandering London as usual- there wasn't much to do at the orphanage, and London had hundreds of back alleys with little stores and interesting people. She was strolling along when the inn caught her eye. There was nothing special to it- much like its neighbors- but some unseen force pulled her to it and made her stop in wonder.

No one else had noticed the pub, it was as if only she could see it. When she had stepped over the threshold, no one even glanced into the open door.

The barman, Tom, had looked at her strangely as she sent curious glances through the door she just came through and around the dim room. "Looking for Diagon Alley, miss?" Melidi's head swiveled to look at him, and she had asked, always polite,

"Pardon?"

"Diagon Alley. Through the brick wall on the other side of that door," he said, his face perfectly straight and emphasized his statement by pointing a grubby finger through an ajar door, where light shown through. As she had walked towards the stream of sun light, she saw through the fogged glass the brick wall he mentioned, and then, the most peculiar thing had happened.

The bricks began to move, twisting and sliding out of their knitted puzzle to form an arch, a young man stepping through, his eyes bright green and his hair like ebony. She jumped aside, to let him by, and as he passed, she got a glimpse of the words etched above the archway before they slid back into the flat, dirty wall.

Diagon Alley

Wizard London

Back in the library, she sat back for a second to let what she just realized sink in, before jumping up and letting her delicate fingers slide along the stacks until she found the tome she searched for. Flipping through the pages, she found the bolded word she sought.

"_**Magic (maj'ik) n. **__the art of influencing events or creating marvels_"

Melidi Ridare sighed, instinctively knowing how great marvels were to be found in this new world, what events would be caused, and how powerful of artists she was to meet.


	2. Chapter 1

**Albus Dumbledore**

**(Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry)**

**(Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards)**

**(Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot)**

**(Order of Merlin, First class)**

**(Chocolate Frog Wizard Card Status)**

Deep into the countryside of Scotland, there sat a colossal castle surrounded by lush green grounds, and trimmed to with a dense forest to the north, a large lake to the north east, and a town called Hogsmeade down the long driveway flowing out the large gates at the end of the property to the south east.

Somewhere inside this castle, among the long corridors and many rooms, there paced a tall man in a deep burgundy cloak, stroking his long silver beard as he read a letter. After his eyes took the last word on the parchment, he sat down tiredly into the highchair behind his large desk. Rubbing his eyes, he spoke into the silent, entirely empty but from himself and his exotic looking pet bird, perched a little while away from him, "Everard?"

There was silence for a long moment, though Albus Dumbledore did not make any indication that he had spoken at all, instead gazing across the room at one of the many oil portraits, this one incasing a pallid man with black hair falling across his forehead, sitting in a chair much like the one Dumbledore sat in now. "Yes?" the man in the portrait responded.

Albus did not look at all surprised that a two-dimensional figure was moving and talking to him, instead, he continued to speak to the peculiar looking man. "Could you please travel to your other painting and find someone trustworthy and connected enough to be able to do a tad bit of research in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and head into the Bureau of Information on Magical Persons. I would then like you to look up all documents relating to one Dorcas Meadowes."

The man got up, mouth hung slightly ajar as if his mind had not caught up with the amount of information that had been given to him, and then- amazingly enough- walked right out of the portrait, disappearing under the large, intricate frame.

Albus Dumbledore now looked around, taking in the large office he sat in, complete with shelves of curious looking objects, a slightly open cabinet omitting a faint glow from a stone basin inside. All the walls of the office held portraits like the one from which the man called Everard had disappeared from, each with names carved underneath, such as _Dilys Derwent: Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1741-1768_, or _Phineas Nigellus: Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1883-1899_. The people portrayed in them were all sleeping quietly, once in a while, one would let out a small snore, destroying the deathly quiet of the room, while the current headmaster of aforementioned school sat in his chair, waiting patiently.

A while later, Everard reentered the portrait, looking across the room with a somewhat befuddled air, and suggested, "Albus, you should probably take a look at this. It's remarkable that the Ministry never realized this mystery before."

Albus calmly replied, with no hint of surprise at a perplexing situation in his twinkling eyes, "The Ministry has overlooked many mysteries more serious than this, Everard."

* * *

�

**Cornelious Fudge**

**(Minister Of Magic)**

Albus Dumbledore was causing the Minister of Magic a lot of grief. Back in June, when the whole tragedy that commenced the pickle the Minister was now in, Cornelious knew there was hard times ahead. But the people couldn't handle the worries of old men. It was definitely better to keep the spirits up, even if Dumbledore thought otherwise.

It was times like this that Cornelious Fudge was reminded of the beginning of his campaign, when the public wanted Dumbledore in power. He had always hoped he would be able to prove them wrong- get back the popular vote. And up until now, he had, remaining cheerful always, and keeping the structure and magic of Britain's branch of the wizarding world.

But now Albus was messing with the plan, the balance, the happiness of the same world. If it wasn't enough for him to turn the tragic death of Cedric Diggory at Hogwarts' very own Triwizard Tournament into a murder involving one of the darkest wizards to walk this earth, he just had to go continuing to smear the Ministry's name by saying they were choosing to ignore that Lord Voldemort, who had disappeared fourteen years ago, had returned last June.

Fudge refused to believe it. No matter how much mysterious behavior went on last year, from Barty Crouch Sr. going mad (the headmaster and Harry claimed he was under You-Know-Who's control) and then disappearing (he was murdered by his son, obviously) and then the same son of Crouch who was presumed dead, once imprisoned, posing as the Auror Mad-eye Moody all year (as well as acting as a professor in Dumbledore's own school), well that was quite enough on his plate, without a return of the feared He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Well, he was going to show Dumbledore, and his precious hero and pet student, Harry Potter. Just because Potter had been the one to make You-Know-Who disappear (at the age of one, no less) did not make him able to keep spewing out these cock-and-bull stories. The Minister had already been working on discrediting this story to the masses, with the help of the _Daily Prophet_ printing many not so benign articles about the attention-seeking of the famous Harry Potter or the eccentric Dumbledore, who was most likely getting on in age and not capable of holding court at his school for much longer.

If that didn't quiet Dumbledore, well, they were already working on voting him out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards, not to mention demoting him from the Wizengamot, the Wizard High Court, and he was sure he could convince the people who counted that he didn't deserve the Order of Merlin anymore.

The Boy-Who-Lived had obviously had the attention of the public for too long, and it was getting to him. He could not remain the source of hope for the world- he was after all, only a boy. Leave the world saving to the able ones.

If Cornelius Fudge was sure about anything, he knew that the Dark Lord had _not_ returned. Well, he thought so, anyways.

* * *

�

**Tom Marvolo Riddle**

**(Lord Voldemort)**

**(You-Know-Who)**

**(He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named)**

The most feared man of Europe sat down the paper with a smirk. That toad Fudge was helping him much more than he could ever dream. While he was making cracks about Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter, not to mention keeping an eye on any mail heading towards Number 4, Privet Drive, Lord Voldemort could cook up a plan with Potter safely grieving and isolated out of the picture. While Harry was stuck with his not so congenial Muggle relatives, the family of his dirty mudblood mother's sister, he was entirely alone, cut off from his beloved world, and the only company the mocking memories of his mistakes.

The fact was, Harry Potter had never been more alone in his life. He had witnessed the murder of the boy Cedric Diggory when the Dark Lord, as well as Barty Crouch Jr. posing as a innocent teacher in the school, kidnapped Harry to behold the return of Lord Voldemort. And when he got back, to inform that Headmaster of his that the feared sorcerer of the wizarding world was back, the wizarding world had scoffed in return of the hero. And now, Dumbledore had kept the light side's hero imprisoned in his cruel childhood home, afraid of the secrets he had not shared with the Boy-Who-Lived.

All in all, the plan of his return had gone quite well. He was stronger than ever, his enemies battling themselves, and the world unawares of his eminent take over. 

Of course, the boy- the only one who had ever vanquished him- still being alive did pose a problem.

But the Dark Lord was not worried. For once, Voldemort was able to scheme in peace. He had a plan, he knew what he needed. He needed to get the one thing he didn't have last time. What a disastrous mistake not having it led to fourteen years ago. But this time, oh this time, we would successfully purge the idiot righteous Potter from this earth, as well as all the Mudbloods and traitors. But that was for later.

Right now, he just had to deal with the girl.

* * *

�

**Melidi Ridare**

**(Employee of Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands)�**

Tossing her dark hair behind her, Melidi Ridare stepped out of the orphanage, in search of a music store. After spending months working for Mr. Ollivander, the fourteen year old was finally ready for a much needed music shopping spree. Her employer had found her that day curiosity got the better of her and she ventured back into Diagon Alley via the Leaky Cauldron, offering her a job in exchange for the thing she had sought most since catching wind of this magic inside of her- a wand.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Conner boy that kept coming into the library ever time she was there. He never spoke to her, just sat a few tables away, his eyes straying to her. She wondered if he thought she was below him- but she knew he couldn't keep away. This wasn't vainness telling her this- but after months of him watching her, eventually, curiosity and her need for honesty made her test out a spell so that she found out exactly what went through his brain when he watched her.

Flattery was all well and good, but he needed to get off his high horse and speak to the commoners- not just admire from afar, the great git.

Hurrying across the dark pavement street, and glancing to the left before turning in the opposite direction, she noticed Conner grinning to himself before following her. She could feel his eyes on her back, and she groaned to herself. He was a son of some wealthy business man, well known throughout London. Once a year, the orphanage would even get a small amount of that fortune, due to the tradition of "giving back to the city." That's all that stopped Melidi from bursting and giving her stalker a piece of her mind.

Glancing behind her again, she turned a corner quickly and then started to jog, darting down an alleyway. Leaning against the stone wall of an apartment building, she gazed at the opening of the alleyway, waiting until she saw him pass her hideaway before breathing regularly again. Sometimes she allowed herself to wonder at the thought that Connor Odgen could take her away from this, that he could only be shy, his arrogance be only taught, and she could break through into his heart with the magic she possessed. She dreamed of his wealth helping her to go to Hogwarts- the school she dreamed of, so that she did not need to learn only the trade of wand lure from Mr. Ollivander and the rest from books.

But alas, she knew destiny had a different path for her, keeping her forever a working class girl trapped between the two worlds. But then, fate could change, and as she sighed and turned to track back to the road, she was stopped by a stranger.

The blond man was smirking, dressed expensively in a long black cloak, shiny boats made out of the finest dragon skin, and his hair slicked back into a ponytail. He stood elegantly, as if royalty, and gracefully drew a dark stick out of his robes. Melidi drew in a gasp and the realization of his wizardry, and instinctively searched through her jacket for her own wand. 

"You have no defense," he drawled, brandishing the wand, "Muggle," and suddenly, Melidi's world went black.


	3. Chapter 2

(A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up- hopefully I'll get more routine about posting new chapters- I actually have a good amount written beyond this (A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up- hopefully I'll get more routine about posting new chapters- I actually have a good amount written beyond this.

By the way, for anyone who is wondering- this story will have spoilers of all the books (provided that I keep this going through the seventh book's plotline). It's just about how one person can change the plotline of Harry Potter. So, there will probably be a lot of scenes that aren't mine- taken from the books.)

Disclaimer: Not Mine. Melidi Ridare, however is, as is the plot relating to her. And all the writing unless specified.

Draco Malfoy

**(Son of Lucius Malfoy)**

**(Young Master of the Wiltshire Malfoy Manor)**

"Wake up, you lazy arse," called a familiar voice, interrupting the foggy train of sleep-induced thought Draco Malfoy was so joyfully having. "Come on, mate, I don't have all day," continued the voice of his long time friend, Blaise Zabini.

Draco groaned and rolled over, his eyes blinking wearily as he registered Blaise's smirking brown head disrupting the bright stream of light flooding in the windows of his bedroom. "Wha time's it?" he slurred.

"Quarter past eleven," he replied, turning and walking over to the plush dark green couch sitting across the room and gracefully falling back onto it. Casually bending his arms behind his head, he carried on, "and the day has already started. The sun is shining, house elves cleaning, your dad trapping a girl in the dungeons, and your mom pestering me to sit down for breakfast with her." Blaise looked up, puzzlement etched on the flawless dark skin. "Why do you think your mom likes me so much?"

Draco sat up; his eyes finally adjusted to the light, and climbed out of the king sized four-poster bed and joined him in the sitting area of his bedroom. "A girl?" he asked with purpose, ignoring Blaise's question.

Blaise nodded, glancing around the room with interest, his eyes stopping on the pile of letters on Draco's mahogany desk. His words carried an air of nonchalance that irked Draco. "Yes, dark hair- sort of red, actually, petite. Quite cute, actually, as much as unconscious girls go. Who all those from?"

"But what is she doing here? And Pansy, mostly, she wants to get together later this week, and my father. Anyways, the girl?" Draco answered impatiently.

Blaise smirked at Draco's obvious interest, and cleared his throat, took a cruelly deep breath and finally answered. "Oh, how should I know, he apparated them into the private parlor while I was chatting with your mother about your late sleeping schedule, obviously didn't want to be seen with her, considering she was slumped over his shoulder like that. Your mother gave him an earful about being more careful about his death eater travels and dealings; apparently your mother believes they bring Aurors and Ministry officials into the family parlor frequently."

Draco still remained confused, and restrained himself from growling at Blaise, considering he obviously was still withholding an important piece of information.

"Dark Lord's orders, he said, the girl was needed to be detained, before backing out the secret door to the dungeons to avoid your Mum's wrath. So, apparently the next couple days you will have a couple of house guests." Blaise's amber eyes finally jumped from their snooping and gazed at Draco's, their depths anxious in spite of his casual drawl.

Draco licked his lips before answering cautiously. "He—You-Know-Who I mean, will be here?" Blaise nodded carefully.

Draco felt a combination of nervousness and anticipation at the promise of the Dark Lord being so near- and finally being clued in on some of his classified plans, following in his fathers footprints.

"What does he want with a girl, do you reckon?"

Lucius Malfoy

**(Owner of Malfoy Corporations)**

**(Honorary Benefactor to Ministry of Magic and St. Mungo's Hospital)**

**(Master of the Wiltshire Mansion)**

(Inner Circle Death Eater)

Sometimes Lucius Malfoy doubted his Lord's actions. Of course, he always had to cover up these doubts before stepping into the same building as the Dark Lord, much less the same room, for he knew he wasn't a skilled Occlumens enough to prevent his Lord from reading his mind and punishing him for his second guessing. Sometimes he doubted Voldemort's leadership, if he was always searching for mutiny in the minds of his followers.

But this did not prevent the elder Malfoy from wondering what brilliant plan this… _muggle girl_ was for. She was a commoner- an orphan. She had no value that he could see. She was beautiful, yes, but there were many gorgeous witches, purebloods. To have his Lord ask him to give shelter for her- this dirty mudblood, it was preposterous. It was demeaning to have her in the same house as his beloved son and wife. He had joined the death eaters for protection, to keep his family with connections and support- always another route to fall back on, but now he began to doubt his escape routes.

Well, if the Dark Lord was not to tell him what the girl was to be used for, he would assume the worst. Perhaps she knew something, had witnessed an event important to Lord Voldemort's success. What ever it was, Lucius hoped that she would not be here for long. Having the Dark Lord's plans so close to home distracted the family from their activities, from their responsibilities. Of course, his Lord said that he could give them all they wanted… But sometimes he doubted what his Lord could really give them all.

As he locked the door to the dungeon, leaving her unceremoniously slumped over against the wall, he looked forward to the visit that night, where hopefully, all his questions would be answered.

Although, he sort of doubted his lord's trust in him too.

Mrs. Caroline Cole

**(Caretaker of the Old London Orphanage)**

Caroline Cole was just putting the little ones down to bed when she realized she had not seen Melidi since early that morning when she went out to browse in that new music store a few streets over. Mrs. Cole had watched her go, wiping down the morning's dishes as she took in the sight of the bubbly teenager hurrying across the road and to the right, out of sight from Caroline.

Caroline had smiled to herself when she saw that Connor Ogden boy following her footsteps. He was such a sweet boy, arranging those charity payments from his father to the orphanage. Caroline suspected it was all because of the same girl he was in dogging now; he always did seem to have an infatuation with her, like so many before him. Too bad she was too quiet to do anything about it- the orphanage hadn't had such a looker since she was a girl, when her mother was the matron.

On that thought, Caroline allowed herself to drift back half a century, into another life when she had thought that boy was the bees' knees. His dark hair, his aristocratic features, his piercing eyes- she sighed in retrospect. She sometimes dreamt that he was a lost prince, that one day someone would come for him, and he'd look to her for direction. Dear lord, how she was infatuated with him. His mysterious nature attracted her young self to him exponentially. She trusted him, even though some of the other kids thought he was creepy. She though, with her innocent eyes and pretty pigtails and her naiveté caused her to follow him with complete trust- until that day- that day she still couldn't bring herself to remember in daylight. But at night, sometimes, that cave would come back to her.

Yes, though, in her innocent mind, Tom Riddle was her prince.

Melidi Ridare

**(Employee (on temporary leave) of Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands)**

Melidi woke up when the light dimmed to red and orange rays of sun creeping through the high window. She was lying on a cool stone in an unknown room, reminding her vaguely of the cellar of the orphanage, though with stone walls and bars on the door. In fact, it almost looked like a… dungeon?

That was the precise moment when Melidi experienced a strong feeling of déjà vu. This had happened before, yet it had never been quite as familiar as this. She remembered this room! As the pieces began to settle in her brain, she wondered when she had been here before. And then she realized.

She had been here in her dreams.

This was _not_ just being reunited with a room of her childhood, or one of the thoughts floating through her head before. She had been in this _moment_ before. And in her dream- she wasn't even sure _when_ she had had the dream, but it was all coming back to her now- someone was about to barge through the door.

As she heard quick and heavy footsteps descending towards her, she realized something that made this situation so much creepier.

She knew who _he_ was too.

(A/N: I would really appreciate some reviews. Please. Feel free to critique.)


End file.
